


Ars Vivendi

by vanitaslaughing



Series: Ignoct Week [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst with a Happy Ending, Episode Ignis Alternate Ending, FFXIV Stormblood patch 3.0 spoilers, M/M, set in the other Final Fantasy games but i don't wanna tag all fifteen of 'em ya feel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 12:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13613487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanitaslaughing/pseuds/vanitaslaughing
Summary: Fifteen times Noctis and Ignis live, together or apart.





	Ars Vivendi

**Author's Note:**

> IGNOCT WEEK DAY 3 - Reincarnation AU
> 
> my brain, to me, at 3am after i procrastinated for several hours: "you have a reincarnation au. make it part of mark of the dreamer"  
> IM PROUD TO SAY - I DIDNT. EAT SHIT, YOU GREMLIN WHO TRIED TO DISTRACT ME WITH CRYING OVER VALENTINE'S EVENT ROY IN FIRE EMBLEM HEROES

I.

* * *

The markets were awash with people today, but Noctis noticed one of the adventurers on the streets. He was with three others, but something about that man and the way he moved was familiar. There weren’t that many Red Mages to begin with, but when this man smiled at him and his selection of weapons, Noctis felt the world turn upside down. The red stood stark against his light brown hair, and the hat blocked out the sun from his face, but he was absolutely certain that this man had to have the most beautiful green eyes in the world.

“H-How can I help you?” It wasn’t like Noctis to stutter, but this dashing man was absolutely ruining his composure.

“I’m afraid my last weapon failed me out in the wild. A bummer, really, but thankfully I survived.”

“Goodness… what sort of sham artist did you buy your weapon from for that to happen?”

The laugh was soft. Gentle. Noctis’ heart was beating so fast by now that he thought the Red Mage would surely leave immediately – but all the man did was shrug. “I wish I knew. My companions chose the weapon for me. Thought a mage would do better with a dagger over anything else. Just a single dagger.”

Noctis snorted. “If anything a mage would need a rod – or two daggers.”

“Ha! I wish those blockheads could have heard that. They were discussing getting me a single one again, from that weaponsmith over there. But you and your selection here rather caught my eye.”

They started discussing weapons and their usability and durability for almost an hour. The man truly knew his stuff about weapons, and Noctis asked about that. Not many adventurers his age knew how to properly test a rapier for durability, even fewer went to check if there were any gems in the hilt as magical conductor.

“My mother was a smith, and though she passed way too early for her to impart her skills to me, I still know enough to keep myself afloat. I just could not tell my companions that the weapon they had gotten me was utter rubbish – try as I might, a single mage does precious little when heavy hitters come bumbling in.”

He bought the rapier and left.

Noctis spent the rest of the afternoon staring out into the streets of Cornelia. Perhaps he’d come back another day.

(Ignis doesn’t return. Noctis never sees him again.)

* * *

II.

* * *

In the wake of destruction and despair, they met.

Noctis himself was injured, dragging his leg behind him. They had barely escaped Altair – Noctis knew that his father had not made it out. A town, completely wiped out, and the hundred or so survivors were all shocked to the bone. Their entire lives, gone in almost an instant. There was nothing left that they could rebuilt with, everything had been torn to pieces and carried away by the tempest.

Noctis was trying to tend to his leg after they had walked a short way away from what was left of their home. Those who had gotten away unscathed teamed up with the handful of mercenaries to fend off the monsters that would be crawling out soon.

“Do you need help with that?”

Noctis looked at the man who spoke – he had seen him before but they had never spoken. A gentle-looking man around his age, intelligent and caring and definitely someone who had better things to do than help the son of a farmer. But still Noctis nodded, unable to say anything.

“I remember you. You are the farmer’s son, Noctis.”

“Y… yes.”

“I’m Ignis. Glad to see you made it out alive – your father helped me once when I was younger, and I owe him a debt.”

“...”

“Well, one I will never be able to repay. But the least I can do is help his son.”

Ignis, as it turned out, was the son of doctors. He had spare supplies here but he had spent a good time helping his uncle take care of the worse injuries. His hands were guided and gentle, and though Noctis was fairly certain that his leg was a lost cause, Ignis still tried to remove the piece of metal that had gotten stuck in it.

Altair had fallen. The world was in turmoil more than it had ever before. In the distance they saw the raging winds that had destroyed their home.

Still, Ignis and Noctis dragged each other away from the wreckage and towards other towns. Somewhere there had to be a safe place. Somewhere the rebellion still had to have quarters. Somewhere… somewhere. At least they didn’t have to go alone – they had each other, and the other survivors.

(“Leave me here,” Noctis breathes. Ignis does, sobbing.)

* * *

III.

* * *

The sunrise was blinding, radiant. Ignis had to cover his eyes, and he knew that the sun would be as unrelentingly bright as it had been for the last few weeks. Something about the world had changed – and not for the better. People collapsed in the streets from heatstrokes. The light was unforgiving; there were reports that people had gone blind from staring at the sun recently. It had taken him more willpower than he was willing to admit to not look directly at the sun that so unrelentingly shone down on their heads.

“That much light’s not right.”

Most people tended to ignore what his childhood friend Noctis said, but Ignis knew that he always had a point. Though strangely distant most of the time, Noctis showed some scary moments of clarity sometimes, and even now the teenager seemed to have them as he sat under a tree.

“We need the dark as much as we need the light… too much of one and the other gets drowned. Won’t be too long before light floods out world, and then there’ll be nothing left of us. Unless there’s people who carry the dark in their hearts enough to get sent forth by the crystals…”

Humbug, some called it.

Prophetic, Ignis called it.

Noctis had never once been wrong with whatever he said during these strange bouts of clarity. The second his eyes glazed over Ignis knew that there was something terrible and true coming up. The neighbour’s cat will die – it died without fail. That marriage is doomed – and surely enough tragedy befell the newly-weds. Noctis predicting the end of the world… well, that was just another thing bound to come true, and he didn’t mind as long as he was with Noctis.

The light burned as Ignis sat down next to his friend, and Noctis put his head on Ignis’ shoulder.

“I’m tired. The sunrise is nice but… it’s too early.”

Ignis laughed.

Light flooded the world a day later.

(“Told you so,” Noctis laughs. Ignis laughs with him.)

* * *

IV.

* * *

The world was ending. Perhaps not.

Last time the world had narrowly avoided it, according to Noctis’ father. Ignis definitely did not remember anything of the sort – he had only been two then. Something about a giant marching along the shores of Eblan, awakened from near endless slumber by the Tower of Babil. How a handful brave warriors had saved the world, righted the wrongs, ascended to thrones and swore an oath to keep this world safe.

The oaths were broken, and something about this entire situation had unhinged reality.

“Damn these freakin’ fairies!”

“Sylphs, Noctis.”

“Sylphs, fairies, pains in the ass! I’m not hiding King Yang of Fabul, I’m just trying to get some water from the spring!”

First the second moon had come back. According to the older people of Kaipo it had been like that all the time when they grew up, and the moon had only left shortly after the Giant of Babil incident. For Noctis and Ignis it was a bewildering thing to look at, for their sky had only one moon as far as they were concerned. Something about this moon as throwing Ignis off, but it wasn’t until it was almost too late that he realised what exactly it was that confused him. It was descending upon them.

Then the meteors started raining upon the earth, and they barely made it out of that unscathed. If the moon would not stop descending soon they were going to be wiped out by meteor before the moon ever impacted on their planet. Just when the meteors stopped falling at last… the sylphs moved in. They were furious, aggressive. They were demanding to have King Yang of Fabul returned to them, but as far as most people of Kaipo knew the man had gone missing out at sea and was definitely not here.

Ignis knew he was. Noctis didn’t.

The sylphs weren’t exactly powerful enough to kill, but their attacks were inconveniencing.

“We’ll just have to hold out. Surely enough the Lady Rydia of Mist will come here to collect her wayward friends before long.”

Noctis sighed and leaned against Ignis.

If the world didn’t end before that. But Ignis was oddly certain that perhaps this world could be saved again. They only needed to hold out for as long as possible – being beset by sylphs while getting water or not.

(Meteors plummet from the skies. Ignis makes it out. Noctis doesn’t.)

* * *

V.

* * *

He screamed.

Screamed until his voice was raw, until he was certain he would collapse from the lack of air in his lungs.

One moment his home had been there. His beloved best friend had been tending to the Chocobo. The children ran across the town square like usual. The same old, same old, a pleasant and familiar routine. He had just gone to check his nets in the river. Just a five minute trip, barely more than a hundred metres away from the village.

Then the very hells themselves opened below the village. Noctis had barely had time to turn around when he heard the screams. A mad dash; he saw Ignis staring at him with wide eyes.

The next second they were gone and only a black, empty void remained where the only life he had ever known had been.

All Noctis could do was scream, scream until his voice broke and nothing remained.

Nothing remained but the void.

(He jumps into the black, swirling void. The village and its people return – Noctis doesn’t. All Ignis has left is the Chocobo.)

* * *

VI.

* * *

The world went up in flames. So did Ignis and Noctis. Perhaps it was better than dying apart, they mused as they clung together. It wasn’t like they could have changed anything. They were not made to fight against an empire led by a madman – were not here to fight against a madman to begin with.

The fires of war would die eventually. They didn’t live through their world ending, they would never see it recover.

(“I love you,” Ignis breathes through the pain. “I love you, too,” Noctis answers as the flames rise higher.)

* * *

VII.

* * *

Children dancing through the slums, hand in hand. Life was hard, but something about this was charming. Ignis laughed as Noctis pointed the kids out. No matter the circumstances, as long as they had one another it would be alright. Shinra or no – Midgar was their home. They loved it despite the inconsistencies, despite the horrid unfairness of it all.

“One day, I’ll land a job at Shinra. I’ll get us up on the plate, mark my words.”

Ignis merely put a hand on Noctis’ mouth with a smile. “As long as we’re together, we could literally live in a trash can here in the slums or on the train graveyard. I don’t care as long as I have you, you’re the one and only person I love after all.”

Then the plate fell. Noctis was out of the slum that day to visit his father in another. He knew almost instantly that whatever dreams he had were shattered. He couldn’t even do anything other than stare at the former passageway into Slum 7. There was nothing left. There was absolutely nothing left, and the Shinra had levelled everything he had ever known. They had murdered Ignis in cold blood because allegedly there were terrorists based in there. He couldn’t even scream. Couldn’t do anything. All he did was stare. Stare, stare, stare. Ignis was gone. Gone, gone, gone.

(He lives two more years. He dies in agony, clutching at the infection that people called Geostigma. This is only fair – he lived, Ignis had died. Dying the agonising Geostigma death while Ignis’ life had ended quickly, suddenly, buried under hundreds and thousands and billions tons of cement and steel.)

* * *

VIII.

* * *

They met again when it rained. It had been so very, very long since they had last met, and Ignis had to look twice to make sure the SeeD who had come here was indeed his childhood friend. He was overjoyed to say the least. So many years since Noctis had left, and he could never forget him. All those years he spent wondering where he had wound up.

“Noctis!”

“I’m sorry, but you are…?”

(GFs caused memory loss, Ignis learns. They never meet again after the SeeD left.)

* * *

IX.

* * *

Madain Sari burned, burned, burned. They were trying to run away together, but everywhere they went there was only fire.

It was strangely familiar, but Ignis still pulled his sobbing friend along. Two children, their home in flames. He had no idea where Noctis’ father was. Where anyone was, really. There were only the flames eating through their homes, the agonised screams of their fellow summoners. Some attempted to call forth their eidolons. Some made it out.

(Ignis and Noctis don’t.)

* * *

X.

* * *

“It’s okay. We were prepared for that.”

Noctis still sobbed as they stood before Lady Yunalesca. The ruins of Zanarkand, quiet and desolate. Summoner and guardian, here to bring the Calm. And Noctis wanted to leave. He wanted to leave, even though he and Ignis had set out together knowing that they would both die. They wanted to bring peace to Spira, together, no matter the cost. But now at the final step of their journey, Noctis wavered. Having to sacrifice Ignis and then his life… it was too much. They had set out as friends.

They stood before her as lovers. Summoner and guardian, and Lady Yunalesca smiled. She understood how painful it had to be. Her words were soothing, reassuring that the Calm they would bring would be a gentle one, one that would give Spira time to recover more than the last Calm had done. They would save countless lives, countless families.

They had lost theirs to Sin, after all. That was why they had set out. They wanted to put an end to this senseless spiral of death they were trapped in. All those people they met, they wanted them to live their lives in peace. All at the cost of theirs.

“I don’t… I can’t… Ignis… I...”

“Noctis, look at me. We knew this was coming.” He turned to Lady Yunalesca, asked if he could go back one more time. She allowed it, surprisingly enough, insisting that this was an exception. Ignis walked over, calmly. He pulled Noctis into an embrace. “We knew this was coming. Let’s do it without regrets.”

“I love you...”

“And I love you. We’ll meet again in the Farplane. You’ll just have to wait for me.”

(The Calm comes. The Calm ends. Noctis and Ignis meet in the Farplane one day, and dance through the field of flowers hand in hand.)

* * *

XI.

* * *

An adventurer like so many; an adventurer unlike any other. Ignis has to admit that something about this one is particularly charming. His excitement. His raw energy. He becomes something of a regular at Ignis’ shop, and Ignis finds himself utterly entranced by the adventurer called Noctis. His stories are those of heroic deeds most of the time. Loud recounts of even just the silliest tale of slaying overgrown mice. He finds himself looking forward to that particular one coming in and telling him his stories.

(Noctis stops coming. Ignis knew all along that one day it would happen. He still cries in his chambers that night.)

* * *

XII.

* * *

They were separated on the battlefield. Their kingdoms had joined together officially with the wedding. Noctis remembered that day as clearly as anything else, even now that he was fighting for his own life. Nabradia needed them, though only Ignis had been born here. Nabradia needed them, and they followed Lord Rasler onto the battlefield. Their countries were joined. Their countries were friends.

Ignis wanted to fight for his homeland. Noctis followed him.

(Lord Rasler fell. Noctis finds Ignis on the battlefield, several swords stuck in his cold and stiff body.)

* * *

XIII.

* * *

“Ha, look at you, all stuck up over this? Relax, Ignis, we’ve all time in the world. We’ve both got jobs. We’ve just married. Relax, really, relax.”

A place for two, and Ignis worried about space. Noctis loved that about him. Two halves of a whole, and they had known from the moment they met that nothing would ever come between them. They’d live together until the end of time, and they both considered that the happily ever after in their lives.

(They get put on a train. They know it’s over for them for some reason. At least they have each other.)

* * *

XIV.

* * *

Liberty or death, liberty or death.

The Scions and the Warrior of Light had freed Doma. They could free Ala Mhigo, too, and Ignis quivered in anticipation. He was not by any means scared of fighting. The moment he joined the Resistance he had known that inevitably he would die on a battlefield or live to tell the tale of victory. But now… After all those months of preparation, he found himself wavering on the eve before their final battle. The Lochs were deadly silent, even though there was an army of allied forces making ready for war on the morrow. The Garleans had barely reacted to the fact that an Alliance of savages was making ready for an attack on the capital. Something about this felt wrong.

He leaned back with a sigh. Tomorrow his country would run free – or remain shackled.

The Ishgardian next to him laughed.

“You look like you’re about to die ‘cause of your nerves.”

They had befriended each other after Rhalgr’s Reach. Ignis still did not know how he had ever survived that after so many good men and women had not. But if nothing else, he was thankful for the chance to meet Noctis.

“Tomorrow… tomorrow is all my family ever dreamed of. Fighting back against the empire. Ensuring that we win. Yet here I sit, and I’m scared.”

“You’d be plenty foolish to not be scared. I was on the Steps of Faith the day the Warrior of Light thwarted that infernal wyrm and ended no less than two thousand years of war in our stead. But you and I are both scared, Ignis. Tomorrow we can win. Tomorrow we can die. Halone only knows what lies in store for us.” Noctis laughed softly, and Ignis couldn’t help but lean against him. Something about being with Noctis felt right, from the moment they met in the infirmary to this very second.

“Then let us hope Rhalgr leads us to victory.”

They spent the night together.

(Liberty or death. Liberty for Ala Mhigo as the people sing their hymn; reclaimed from the Garleans and now a song that rises from the throats of the victors. Death for Ignis and Noctis; dying to ensure the Warrior of Light gets to challenge Zenos yae Galvus without being held back by scrawny foot soldiers.)

* * *

XV.

* * *

The sun fell through the windows. Insomnia was silent this morning, though it wouldn’t be long until at least the Citadel would get increasingly busy. They had a country to repair, after all. A country to raise from the ashes, and they had sworn to do it together.

Noctis’ dreams had been a mess lately. Glimpses of a hundred times he lived together with Ignis, and all of them falling into pieces somewhat. His heart ached every morning when he woke to an empty bed – Ignis simply got up earlier than him after all.

This morning Ignis was still beside him. Still asleep, and the terror of standing before the vast and empty hole in his dreams faded quickly when he looked at Ignis.

They had gone through so much trouble. Ten years of darkness, ten years of reflection. They had walked the final steps of the path together. They would not get torn apart again; Ignis and Noctis refused to let that happen. Ignis had fought his fight against fate. Noctis had joined him. They had won their perfect ending now.

(“Good morning,” Noctis whispers into Ignis’ ears, “I love you.” Ignis wakes slowly and instead of answering kisses his beloved king slowly.)

**Author's Note:**

> please dont @ me if i got anything wrong. any disregard for other final fantasy lore was Deliberate. trust me.


End file.
